So Far Unnamed
by Electric Light Shadow Boxer
Summary: After The Snow Job Eliot has to work out his feeling for Nate and Nate has to decide if he can accept what Nate has to offer.


TITLE: So Far Unnamed

AUTHOR: Electric Light Shadowboxer

RATING: M (If it should be different let me know)

CATEGORY: Slash

PAIRING: Nate/Eliot

SUMMARY: After The Snow Job Eliot has to work out his feeling for Nate and Nate has to decide if he can accept what Nate has to offer.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Leverage or any of the associated characters. No copyright infringement is intended. This little piece of insanity is for fun, not profit. I make no money. Literally.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Takes place after The Snow Job and contains spoilers. The first in which will hopefully be a series taking place between the episodes. Note that this series follows the order of episodes on the season 1 DVD's instead of actual broadcast order. Contains mild m/m action. Don't read if you're offended.

They'd gotten back home from Miami last night and everyone had gone their separate ways to unwind before their next job. If there was a next job.

Now he stood outside the door of Nate's apartment, taking a few deep breaths of the stale air that seemed to cling to the putrid green walls and cork up his airway. It was like trying to breathe steam. He stood and stared at the stained carpet, letting his mind go blank so he could think without the anger overwhelming him.

He needed to be calm, to be in control, before he did something he'd regret. He wasn't a rash man but his anger was much closer to the surface than normal. They'd almost come to blows during this last job. Nate's words kept running through his head. "_Go skip some rope._" He knew Nate hadn't meant it, that it'd been the alcohol talking. But that was precisely the problem. Nate wasn't in control and someone was going to get hurt.

The last day on the job Nate had been a little more sober. He knew better than to think he was going completely without, but he wasn't constantly downing the stuff; he wasn't drunk. Eliot was smart enough to know that it wouldn't last. Nathan's life was becoming all about the booze and that didn't end without some serious life changes.

When he'd agreed to that first job he'd had no idea he'd end up working with Nathan Ford. He hadn't minded, in fact, it had put his mind at ease, knowing that an honest man was at the helm. But he hadn't been prepared for the changes that had taken place in the insurance cop over the past couple of years.

When he'd first seen him in the park during the initial meet up he almost hadn't recognized him. Gone was the calm and collected exterior, the quirk of the mouth the belayed the stunning sense of humor, the happy shine that seemed to surround him that said life had handed him everything he could ever want.

Instead, he'd lost weight, his hair was unkempt, he was gray where the flush wasn't riding his cheeks, and his eyes were rheumy from the alcohol. Then of course there was the smell. Even with the mint he sometimes sucked on it was easy to detect the waves of bourbon that seemed to waft off him.

Oh he knew the story. Plenty of people knew the story and no doubt it had been bad. But he'd had no idea that the man he'd actually come to respect had deteriorated so much. A hard life had made Eliot a hard man but there was something about Nathan that made him feel . . . Seeing him that way . . . it hurt. There was something about Nathan Ford that made you like him, even if you were staring at him from the opposite side of the game.

At first he'd thought being back in the game would pull Nate out of his all too evident downward spiral. However, as time went on it became more and more evident that things were just getting worse. Nate was drinking himself out of a team, and worse, he was going to end up killing himself.

So Eliot found himself in a quandary. He didn't hold with drunks. If it had been anybody else but Nathan he'd have walked away without a backwards glance. Still, he had to set his foot down. They were headed for disaster like this and he couldn't afford that kind of mistake.

He started to breathe out once again to calm his anger but found it wasn't necessary. The anger had faded away to leave behind a kind of weary sadness. He paused briefly, startled at his own feelings before pushing them away and then knocked on the door.

When there was no answer he knocked again. "Nate?"

He shifted and rubbed his hand over his mouth. He was probably passed out on the couch. There was no telling what shape he might be in. He'd had a whole day to drink himself into oblivion. He knocked harder. When there was still no answer he reached out and tried the knob and wasn't all that surprised when he felt it turn and the door open. Eliot sighed at Nathan's carelessness. If the booze didn't kill him someone else would.

Nate knew better than to leave the door unlocked. Either someone had broken in or Nathan had just been too drunk to remember. With a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching he eased into the apartment, careful to make sure an intruder wasn't ready to pounce him.

He'd only been in Nate's apartment once before, after the homecoming job, but he remembered the layout. He stood for a moment inside the door to get his bearings and size up the place. It was a mess. It hadn't been too tidy before but now the evidence of Nathan's continual slide into alcoholism was evident in the state of his apartment. Eliot felt something shift inside his stomach. This wasn't good. The Nathan he'd known had been meticulous, compulsive even. "Nathan? You here?"

The lights were on and there was a vague sour smell in the air. He started down the hall, careful to check the corners and shadows while keeping a wall at his back. As he neared the bedroom the sour smell became stronger.

Eliot wrinkled his nose at the stench of vomit and pushed open the door to the bedroom. The light was on in here as well but it was just a small bedside lamp, leaving most of the room in shadow. He pushed the hair out of his face and stared around at the dim room. It was a mess, sheets twisted and halfway on the floor, empty liquor bottles on the nightstand, and a hand lying on the carpet on the other side of the bed.

Pausing only long enough to make sure no one was hiding in the shadows, Eliot hustled around the bed. He side stepped, making sure to miss the mess on the floor before he bent over the prone man. The last thing he wanted to do was put his knee down in a puddle of vomit. He wrinkled his nose at the vomit soaking into the carpet by the Nate's head. No intruder then; just a sad man who'd managed to poison himself into unconsciousness.

He turned him over and checked for a pulse, checked to make sure that the fool hadn't drunken so much he'd quit breathing. Although, perhaps that's what he wanted, to just slide into oblivion and never wake up.

Eliot sat back on his haunches and considered just getting up and walking out. He hadn't signed up for this shit and he certainly wasn't this man's babysitter. He didn't owe him anything. But he couldn't, he didn't understand why, not really. The man he'd respected was long gone but he still couldn't walk away. He couldn't leave knowing that Nate could possibly die from alcohol poisoning. But he sure as hell wasn't going to sit around here with the smell invading his nose.

Cursing under his breath he pulled Nathan's soiled shirt off and used it to wipe the vomit from his cheek. Then he picked him up and slung him over his shoulder, grimacing. Carrying a sick man in a fireman's carry wasn't exactly smart but it was the most efficient way to get him out of the room. "I swear to God, if you puke on me I'm going to drop your ass on the floor."

Once he'd deposited the other man on the sofa he stepped back and walked over to a window, looking past his own reflection he focused on the lights in the building across the street and tried to sort out his mixed feelings. Every instinct he had was telling him to get as far away as possible. He closed his eyes but the smell of bourbon that seemed to permeate this place tried to pull him down into memories and he snapped them back open. Yeah, he really needed to get the fuck away from here.

He pulled out one of the chairs and turned it around, straddling it so he could stare at the man lying prone on the couch. He'd come up here to give him an ultimatum and instead he was hand holding. What the fuck was wrong with him? How was it that this man had gotten under his skin? This wasn't supposed to happen and he didn't understand what he was feeling. It scared him. One thing was for sure, he couldn't just sit here staring at the man on the couch with this uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

CONNOC

It was hard to say what woke him first. In the end he decided it was a tossup between the red pounding haze floating behind his eyes or the way his stomach rolled unpleasantly, like an eel uncurling from slumber. That thought alone was enough to make him swallow thickly and then regret the action. The sour taste of a nasty bourbon and bile cocktail lay in a thick coat on his tongue.

He remained still, trying to sort himself out, and convince his stomach to stay put. Last night was not hazy in his mind. It simply didn't exist. For that matter, he couldn't remember anything about yesterday. It was total and complete blackness. He knew that the knowledge should concern him but he couldn't quite work up the energy to care.

He heard the movement to his left a moment before a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Wha . . . ?" He sat up swiftly, the word choked off by the feeling of bile rising in his throat.

"Steady. Take a deep breath."

Nathan closed his eyes as the sun streaming through the window stabbed into his brain and concentrated on not losing whatever might be left in his stomach. "Eliot?"

"You're dehydrated. Here, drink this until I can get some coffee made."

Nathan squinted his eyes open to see Eliot standing above him, a glass of water in his hand and a scowl on his face. He opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it and accepted the glass of water.

Eliot stared at him a moment longer, face unreadable before he turned and made his way back into the kitchen.

Nathan watched him go, confused. He took a small sip of his water and felt his stomach recoil. He set the glass down on the coffee table and hurried to the rest room.

When he came back out he felt a little better, having taken the time to brush his teeth and put on a shirt. He stopped in the living room, squinting at the light, and looked around. It was clean. The dirty clothes had been picked up, the empty liquor bottles were gone, and the take out cartons and half empty pizza boxes had been cleared away. He was about to convince himself he was hallucinating 'cause no way had Eliot come into his house last night and cleaned.

He spotted his sunglasses on his hall table by the door and slid them over his eyes to block out the painful light. Then he made his way to the kitchen where he could hear Eliot banging pots and pans.

He stopped by the bar and watched as Eliot flipped an omelet and then turned some sausage links in another pan before they could burn. The smell of the sizzling meat made his stomach turn over but he swallowed it back down. "What are you doing here, Eliot?"

Eliot didn't glance at him but kept his eyes on the vegetables he was chopping. "You know, I thought that'd be fairly obvious but maybe you've pickled your brain to the point you don't recognized cooking anymore."

Nathan stared at the hitter a moment, trying to decide how far to push him, or if he even cared. "Where did this food come from?"

Eliot finally spared him a glance but it wasn't happy. "I went out and bought it this morning after it became apparent you weren't going to die from alcohol poisoning."

He made an ugly noise in his throat and then moved past Eliot and pulled a coffee mug out of the cabinet. "I'm not hungry."

"Yeah, well, I don't care."

Nathan ignored the other man and poured himself a cup of coffee before opening the pantry and pulling out a bottle of Jameson and pouring a hefty splash into the cup. He inhaled the aroma and then started to take a sip when a hand came down on his arm and forced the cup away from his mouth. He fought momentarily but he was no match for the other man. He felt the mug slipping from his grasp. He glared at the other man."Really, Eliot? You're going to come into my house and tell me what I can and cannot drink?"

Eliot pried the mug away from Nathan's hand, spilling a little and burning himself in the process. He ignored the pain and glared at the older man. "Did you just Irish up your coffee? Seriously?" He turned and threw the mug into the sink; the sound of it shattering satisfied something deep within him.

Nathan pulled away from the other man, anger making the red haze behind his eyes swim a little heavier. "Why don't you . . ."

Eliot pointed at him, anger, and something Nathan couldn't quite identify burning in his eyes. "If you tell me to go skip some rope I swear to God I'll knock you into next Sunday."

Nathan snapped his mouth closed, Eliot's anger making him want to take a step back. He swallowed and made himself stay put. "I thought you didn't care if I drank myself into a coma." There was silence from the other man. "What the hell are you doing here, Eliot?"

Eliot smirked a little and then stepped back, hands up in a push away gesture. "You know what? I don't even know anymore." He turned and without looking back walked out of the apartment.

CONNOC

The team had been trying to reach Nate all evening. They were supposed to have met earlier to discuss a new client but he'd never shown up.

It had been nearly a week since their last job when they'd all received a call from Nate telling them they had a new client. Eliot hadn't seen or heard from any of them since he'd walked out Nate's door that morning. When he'd seen who was calling he'd been tempted to not answer but the heaviness in his chest made him change his mind.

When they'd passed the thirty minute mark and still no Nathan, Hardison had pulled up the GPS on the team leader's phone. Eliot had been willing to bet he'd be found in a bar. But it hadn't been a bar.

According to the hacker it was an apartment building in a really bad part of town, the kind of place that if you went to sleep there you'd be lucky to wake up the next morning. When he'd realized where Nate was a small tendril of worry had uncurled in the hitter's stomach. What the hell was Nathan doing there?

He'd been able to persuade the others to stay at headquarters and assured them he'd keep in touch through the coms. For all that the others were criminals they weren't violent. Hell, Hardison bruised if you punched him in the shoulder. He couldn't go into an unknown situation where he had to worry about watching after them.

"_Eliot, where are you?_"

He pushed down the irritation at Sophie's voice, pushed down the emotions it brought to the surface, trying to refuse what they meant. "I just got to the apartment building. Hardison, were you able to pin down which apartment?"

"_Of course I did. I'm reasonably sure it's apartment 304._"

"Reasonably sure?" Eliot growled, pausing and putting a hand up to the com in his ear.

"_Guys, can we please just focus on finding Nate and making sure he's okay?_"

Eliot shut out the bickering on the other end of the coms by taking his out of his ear. He couldn't focus with all the noise in his ear. To be effective, to be in control, he had to stay calm and he was already way too emotionally involved in this. He entered the apartment building, noting the position of every one of the gangbangers hanging around the outside.

He trotted up the three flights of stairs, trying to focus on any footsteps besides his own in the echoing stairwell. He found room 304 and thought about kicking it in but decided he'd be better off knocking, just in case Nate wasn't in any trouble.

The guy who answered the door had a black eye and busted lip. His greasy wife beater was smattered with drops of blood. "Who the fuck are you?"

It was the blood that did it. If it was Nathan's . . . Eliot used the heel of his hand and smacked the door, sending the dirty son of a bitch backward and charging into the room. He grabbed the guy as he was recovering and slammed his face into the wall by the door, sending him to the floor cold.

There was a second guy coming for him, pulling a gun from the waistband of his torn and faded Levis.

Eliot grabbed the gun before he could get a shot off then jabbed his elbow into the guy's nose. The guy went down on his knees, cupping his nose as blood poured through his fingers. Eliot released the clip from the gun and threw the piece over his shoulder. The rest of the little one room apartment was empty.

He grabbed thug number 2 up from the floor by his shirt and shook him. "What'd you do with him?"

The guy's voice came out choked, blood dripping from his nose. "I don't know what the fuck are you talking about, man."

Eliot took another look around the apartment. There was nowhere they could be hiding him. He was starting to think Hardison had gotten the wrong apartment when he spotted the phone on the milk crate currently being used as an end table. It was Nate's.

He marched the guy over to the milk crate and picked up the phone." Where's the guy who owns this phone?"

"I don't know, man. I swear. I don't know what you're talking about."

Eliot jammed the phone into his jeans pocket and shook the guy with all his considerable force before grabbing him under his chin and digging his fingers in. "You've got five seconds to tell me before I break your neck."

The guy choked, breath wheezing through his throat. "Shit, okay, fuck, we left him outside his apartment. I swear, man."

"Who sent you?"

The guy's eyes were rolling white. "What? No one. Please, I can't breathe."

Eliot snarled and hit the guy in the neck, causing him to go down hard. He searched the apartment a little more and found Nate's wallet, still intact.

The other guy was starting to come around. Eliot started out of the apartment, taking a moment to place a well aimed kick at the guys head, his cowboy boot landing with a solid crack to the guy's temporal bone.

He left the apartment building and took the shortest route he knew to Nate's apartment.

CONNOC

Traffic had Eliot growling by the time he pulled up at Nate's building. He took a moment to look around before he went inside. Before the team had come together Nathan had fallen on hard times. As a result, he'd been living in an apartment that was somewhat better than the part of town Eliot had just come from but not by much. And even with the pay out, he hadn't gotten a better place.

Oh, he'd bought the offices and his little red car that he'd been so proud of but the rest of it he'd given away. And, come to think of it, he hadn't seen that little red car since that first time after they'd finished bringing down Castleman. He'd probably given it away too.

He stopped just outside the door of Nate's apartment. Blood had pooled in the grimy carpet in the hallway and the door was still open a bit. He didn't bother knocking this time.

It was dark inside and he paused a moment to let his eyes adjust to the scant light coming in through the windows. He could just make out the outline of a body lying on the floor a few feet inside the door. "Shit."

He rushed past the body to the floor lamp by the couch and flipped it on before turning back to Nathan.

He was out cold. Eliot checked him over but the only injury seemed to be a gash in his head. He was a little concerned at the amount of blood still coming from the gash. Head wounds bled like a son of a bitch but this seemed a little excessive. The way Nathan drank Eliot wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have a serious vitamin k deficiency which could account for the lack of clotting.

Nathan was pale, his skin clammy. He was probably in shock.

"Nate. Hey, Nate, if you can hear me I need you to open your eyes for me." Eliot waited a moment before lightly smacking Nathan's cheek. The last thing he needed to do was exacerbate his head injury. "Nathan! Wake up, man."

Still no answer. Eliot could smell the alcohol on the other man's breath. Those sons of bitches had probably followed Nate home from a bar and then jumped him outside his apartment. Of course Nate had been too drunk to realize he was being followed. Now he had a head injury on top of being intoxicated.

"Damn it!" He pried open Nate's eyes and watched his pupils for a reaction. They were equal size, which was good news, but they were sluggish to respond to light. All of a sudden Nathan began choking, his body fighting to bring up his stomach contents. Eliot quickly rolled him over so he wouldn't choke while he waited for Nathan's body to quit heaving. Vomiting could be a sign that the head injury was worsening. However, with the alcohol in his system Eliot couldn't be sure.

If it were just the head injury Eliot would take care of it himself. But the intoxication complicated matters and he was afraid to risk a chance with Nathan's life. Grunting he picked up the other man and started the slow task of getting him down to his truck.

CONNOC

Eliot sat in the waiting room, blood still staining his shirt where he'd carried Nathan down to his truck. He'd given them a story about Nate getting drunk and falling down to crack his head in order to avoid problems with the local authorities. The last thing they needed right now was trouble with the local LEO's. Across the room Hardison and Parker sat staring at the flickering images on one of the TV screens while Sophie paced back and forth.

"I don't understand what's taking so long. How long were you here before we arrived?"

Eliot rallied his patience to go over the story one more time. "I told you, they'd just taken him back a few minutes before you walked through the door."

Sophie stared at him a few minutes before wisely deciding not to press the issue. She started pacing again and Eliot looked away, ran his hands over his face and tried to gather his thoughts. He was tired. He wanted nothing more than to walk out that door and never come back. He wanted to run as far away from this as he could. He'd done it once he could do it again. But something held him fast to that chair, the same thing that hadn't let him leave Nathan lying in his own vomit a week ago. God, had it only been a week?

He'd actually been driving to the hospital when Nathan's phone had started ringing in his pocket. He'd actually forgotten about the team until then. His worry over Nathan had pushed all other thought out of his mind. He didn't take the time to answer, keeping his attention on getting Nathan to the hospital. He knew that they could find him so he wasn't too worried.

He'd given them a quick update on what had happened and now they were waiting.

"Is there a Walter Emmalson here?"

Eliot stood and walked over to the doctor standing in the doorway that went back to the trauma area. "Yeah, I'm Walter. How's my brother?" He could feel the others crowd around behind him and again had to work to keep his patience in check.

"I'm Dr. Grayson." He shook hands with his patient's brother and the lady standing beside him. "If you'll follow me there's a little room we can talk in."

Eliot glanced back over his shoulder to see Hardison nod, indicating that he and Parker would stay there then he followed the doctor down the hall to a small room with a desk and a couple of chairs. He went over to lean on the wall, refusing the offer of a chair.

Dr. Grayson flipped through the chart he had in front of him and smiled at the woman sitting across the desk. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've been introduced."

Sophie smiled but it didn't hide the worry creasing the corners of her eyes. "I'm Rebecca Emmalson. I'm . . ." She trailed off, realizing she didn't know what name Eliot had given for Nate. She smiled again. "Sorry, the stress just has me a little worked up. I'm Walter's wife."

The doctor nodded glancing between the oddly matched pair. "Well, we've finished running the scans of David's head. He has a moderate concussion. Now he still hasn't woken up but that could be from the rather hefty amount of alcohol in his system. We're going to keep a watch on him tonight and see how he's doing in the morning." He paused and leaned back in his chair. "How often does David drink like this?"

"All the time."

"Very rarely."

Sophie and Eliot stopped and looked at one another, Eliot glaring a little. Nate needed help but this wasn't the way. If you ambushed him with something like this you would end up just pushing him away.

Sophie turned away first, back toward the doctor. "Why? Is there a problem?"

The doctor looked between the two of them and sighed. It wasn't unheard of for families to be in denial right along with the alcoholic. "I ask because we had a little problem getting him to stop bleeding. We've given him some vitamin K and it did eventually stop. It's not uncommon to see this in heavy drinkers."

He watched the two of them a moment but neither had anything to say. He cleared his throat. "There are other dangers associated with alcoholism as I'm sure you're aware of. I just want you to be aware of the situation."

Sophie took a deep breath and nodded. "We'll take that into consideration. Thank you very much, Dr. Grayson."

Eliot nodded and uncrossed his arms to shake hands with the doctor. "Can we see him?"

"Of course. He's being moved to room 206 in our step down ward. After you exit this room take the hallway on your left. There'll be a bank of elevators on your right. Take those to the second floor and the nurses will point you in the right direction."

They exited the room and watched the doctor walk back toward the emergency area. Sophie turned and started down the hallway, not waiting to see if Eliot were following.

They made their way to the room and stepped inside. Sophie gasped but Eliot remained quiet. Nathan actually looked better than he had before. He was still pale but he was no longer clammy. The bruise spreading over his temple looked more vivid than it had earlier but that was to be expected.

The only sounds in the room were the soft sound of the nasal cannula giving Nathan oxygen and the sound of the IV pump as it pumped fluids into him at a high rate of speed to counteract the dehydration.

Eliot hung back, arms crossed, and watched as Sophie walked up to the side of the bed and picked up Nate's hand. Eliot ran a hand over his mouth and then pushed the hair back out of his face. His heart was hammering and his mouth was dry. It took a lot to scare him but seeing Nathan like that scared him. It made him realize that he needed to deal with this thing that was building inside him. If he didn't do something about it and something happened he would regret it for the rest of his life. It was stupid, it was cheesy as hell, but it was the truth. As the realization flooded over him he felt something in his chest unclench.

He must have made some noise because Sophie turned around, like she'd forgotten he was there. She wiped at the wetness on her cheeks and sniffed a bit. "Eliot, do you mind giving me a minute here." She dug in her purse for a tissue. "Go tell Parker and Hardison where we are?"

Eliot tried not to show how much he resented her right then but something must have shown on his face because a look of surprise flashed over her just a moment. He took a deep breath, pulling the mask of anger and indifference back over his face. "Sure."

CONNOC

He was being given oxygen. The damn cannula burned his nose and his immediate reaction was to reach up and pull it away but someone stopped him.

"Finally decided to wake up, did you?"

Nathan turned his head to see who was sitting next to his bed and became acutely aware of the stabbing pain that lanced through his head. He closed his eyes a moment and tried to swallow down the bile that tried to crawl up his throat. When his stomach settled a little he smacked his lips to try and get some moisture back into his mouth and opened his eyes, squinting at the stiletto stabs of sunlight. "Where am I?"

Sophie sighed and dropped his hand, sitting back in the chair and moving her bangs out of her face. "You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

Nate started to shake his head and then thought better of it. "What happened? Were any of the others hurt?"

Sophie was quiet a moment, biting on her lower lip, trying to sort out her feelings. She really wanted to be quite mad but she was too tired and wrung out. "As best as we can figure you were on your way home," She glared at him. "Probably from a bar and was jumped outside your apartment."

Nathan tried to remember but it was no good. She might as well have been talking about someone else. He sat up in bed, careful to keep from jarring his head too much and making sure his stomach stayed where it was supposed to. "Where are my clothes?"

Sophie stood and put a hand on Nate's chest, trying to push him back into bed. "Nate, you can't just walk out of here! You have a concussion."

"That fact had not escaped my attention." He tried to push her off as he continued to try and see where they'd put his clothes.

"Nate! For God's sake, stop and listen to me a moment."

As much as he wanted to get out of the bed everything started to take on a bright aura and then gray started eating at the edges of his vision. He stopped and breathed for a moment, trying to keep from passing out.

"See? You're in no shape to go running around. Just stop trying to kill yourself for a second and listen to me."

Nathan shrugged her off, laughing. "Sophie, I'm not trying to kill myself. You're overreacting."

She glared at him, hands on her hips. "Am I, Nate?" She turned and took a deep breath, trying to order her thoughts. "You scared the bloody hell out of us."

He stared at her, incredulous. "Scared you? Sophie, we're in a dangerous business. I could very well get hurt a lot worse than this on a job. You're making too big a deal out of this."

"But this wasn't about a job now was it? Nate, it's not just me and you that this is affecting. You scared Eliot."

"Eliot?"

"I don't think I've ever seen him look like he did when he saw you lying in this hospital bed." Sophie sighed and sat down on the bed next to him. "I think you've become a father figure of sorts for him, to all of them really. You can't keep doing this. It's selfish."

Nate looked at her, blinking. "Selfish? You think I'm being selfish?" He stood, the dizziness passed after a moment, and shook off Sophie's hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for my clothes."

CONNOC

It had been two days since he'd been released from the hospital. The doctor had wanted him to stay but he hadn't pushed it when it became apparent that he was not going to be cowed into staying. Sophie had insisted on staying at the apartment with him until this morning. She'd said something about an audition but he thought his foul mood had finally gotten the best of her.

Between her and the phone calls from Hardison and a visit from Parker he hadn't seen any peace. The only one that had been conspicuously absent had been Eliot. He wondered if this last incident had been the one to finally push the hitter out of the team.

That thought made him cringe. Out of his whole team he trusted Eliot the most. It was Eliot that he knew the best, despite what Sophie might think.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings and he moaned. He'd just gotten some time to himself. He did not feel like being bothered right now. He just wanted to sleep, to try and forget the last few days.

If he kept quiet maybe they'd go away. He heard the knob rattle and picked his head up off the back of the couch. Of course if it was Parker she'd just pick the lock and come on in. He was really going to have to see about keeping the others out of his apartment.

He was surprised to see Eliot come through the door instead of Parker. "Eliot?"

Eliot closed the door behind him and threw something down on the hall table. "You feeling any better?"

Nate shook his head and snapped his mouth closed. "Parker been teaching you to pick locks?"

"Pick locks?" He sat down on the couch next to Nathan and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I didn't pick your lock. I used a key." He nodded to the hall table.

"A Key." He looked from the table to Eliot sitting on the couch next to him. "Where did you get a key?"

Eliot sank back into the cushions and looked over Nathan. He looked much better than he had in the hospital. His color was coming back and the bruise was even fading a little bit. His eyes were tracking and they'd lost the rheumy appearance they got when he drank. "You're looking better."

"Uh, thanks." Nathan finally shook his head and finally put all of his attention on the man beside him. "What are you doing here? Did Sophie send you or is this the part where you tell me you're leaving the crew?"

Eliot turned toward him; one arm stretched along the back of the couch and looked Nate in the eyes. "No. I came here because we need to talk."

Nathan sat back on the couch and sighed, shaking his head. He didn't feel like talking about this anymore. He didn't have a problem and he was tired of the nagging. If he heard it one more time he thought he might actually get violent. "Whatever you've got to say I've heard it and I don't need to hear it again."

Eliot looked away, shaking his head, a small smile on his face. "No, I don't think you have."

Nathan looked at him for a moment and then stood, walking into the kitchen.

Eliot followed him in and watched as Nate pulled a glass from the rack and a bottle from the cupboard. He leaned against the counter as Nate turned and glared at him over the glass. "You want to talk? Talk."

Eliot pushed himself off the counter and pushed his shirt sleeves up past his elbows. "You hungry?"

"No. What are you doing here, Eliot? Why the sudden preoccupation with my kitchen?"

Eliot caught the way Nathan grimaced when he brought up food. "You're stomach bothering you?" He pulled out a stool and patted it. "Sit down. I'll make something that'll be easy on you."

He pulled a hair elastic out of his pocket and drew his hair into a ponytail to keep it out of his face while he cooked. He started rummaging around in the cabinets looking for something he could put together to make some soup. "You don't have a lot in here but I think I can scrounge up enough to make a decent broth, maybe some rice."

Nate opened his mouth to protest and then shrugged, not having the energy to protest. He sat down on the stool and took another sip from his drink as he watched Eliot work in his kitchen. He tried to read the man. He could tell that Eliot was nervous and that puzzled him. If Eliot wanted to tell him he was leaving the team or if he wanted to give him grief about drinking he wouldn't be nervous. He wouldn't be standing in the kitchen cooking.

He took another sip of his drink and cleared his throat. The silence was companionable enough but Eliot's nervousness was making it a little uncomfortable. "So, uh . . ." He searched his mind for something, anything to break the tension. "Where did you learn to cook?"

Eliot glanced at him, a shifting of his eyes before looking back down at the onion he was chopping. He took a deep breath and then shrugged. "I learned as a kid. My older sister taught me. Then I picked up a few things here and there in my travels."

Nathan nodded and got up to refill his glass.

Eliot tried not to notice, tried not to react to the warm spread in his lower stomach as Nathan brushed close to him in the small confines of the kitchen. He cleared his throat and concentrated on trying to keep up the rhythm of his chopping without cutting himself.

Nathan noticed that Eliot looked uncomfortable and narrowed his eyes. Was this a drinking thing after all? He took a hefty swallow. When he next spoke his voice was rough with the bourbon he'd just poured down his throat. "What's wrong?"

Eliot shook his head. "You're knives are too dull. I'll be lucky if I don't slice my hand open trying to use these things."

Nate shook his head. "You realize that didn't make any sense don't you?"

Eliot looked up at him, a small smile on his face. "How so?"

Nate stood and approached the hitter, took the knife out of his hand. "Wouldn't you be more likely to cut yourself with a sharper knife?"

Eliot let his hand linger a little on Nathan's as he took the knife back, just to see what kind of reaction he'd get. "No, actually, you have to use more force with a dull knife which increases the chances of it slipping and cutting you."

"Ahh." Nathan stood where he was, watching mesmerized as Eliot turned back to his chore. "Learn something new everyday."

Eliot was acutely aware of Nathan's presence at his side. It was distracting him to the point he really would slip up and hurt himself if he wasn't careful. "Nate, I need you to not crowd me."

Nate backed up a step but didn't move any further. "Something's wrong."

Eliot didn't look up. When he'd seen Nate lying in that bed he knew what he needed to do but now that he was actually here he found that he couldn't quite get the words past his lips. What if he did this and it destroyed the team? What would happen then? Nate was a mess now. Without the team he'd be back to living in his car or worse, dead.

Nathan stepped forward, placing a hand over Eliot's, stilling the motion of the knife. "What's wrong, Eliot? Talk to me. Maybe I can help."

Eliot couldn't help the laugh that escaped him but it didn't sound entirely happy. He turned to see the flush sneaking over Nate's cheeks. "You're drunk." He was glad it came out as a statement rather than an accusation. The last thing he wanted to do right now was push the other man away.

"No, no I'm not. What's going on, Eliot? What's got you so tied up in knots?"

Eliot closed his eyes briefly, sending up a small prayer he was doing the right thing, and then turned his hand over and grasped Nathan's where it still rested on the top of his. "Let's go in the living room to talk."

Nathan licked his lips, staring down at where Eliot had his hand clasped. He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, okay, sure."

Eliot dropped his hand and brushed past on his way back into the living room. Nathan followed behind, heart hammering hard in his chest. He sat down on the couch across from Eliot. "What is it?"

Eliot brushed back the piece of hair that had escaped the elastic band and leaned forward, elbows resting on jean clad knees. He'd been rehearsing what he'd say all day but now he couldn't find the words. He licked his lips and looked away from Nate's eyes, unsure of what he was seeing there. Fear? Confusion? He couldn't tell. "When I saw you in that hospital bed . . ." He stopped and cleared his throat, unused to talking about his feelings. "When I saw you laying there it scared me."

Nate drew his brows down, confused. Just when he thought he had the situation pegged it changed directions. It was a good thing this wasn't a con because he'd be lost. "So this is about the drinking."

"No. It's about . . ." He trailed off looking away and growling a bit in frustration. He bounced his forearms on his knees a moment before he looked back at Nathan. "Ah hell."

He stood and crossed to the couch, dropping to his knees in front of Nathan and grabbing him behind the neck and pulling him down into a kiss. Nathan's lips were unresponsive. Eliot changed the kiss from chaste to open mouthed, licking and biting at Nathan's lips. He forced himself past the taste of bourbon on Nathan's mouth to find the taste of the man underneath.

As Eliot became more demanding Nathan recovered from his shock, lips softening and parting to allow the other man better access, kissing back, tongue caressing Eliot's.

Eliot finally had to pull back to catch his breath. He let go of Nathan's head, allowing his hands to fall onto Nathan's thighs. He massaged gently, thumbs making small circles and stared at the man above him. There was still shock on his face but as he watched it slowly melted into realization.

He leaned forward again, twining his hands in the hair at the base of Nathan's scalp and pulled him down for another kiss, lips hard and demanding until he was granted access again. He dropped his hands to Nathan's shirt, undoing the buttons as he ran his tongue over Nathan's palate.

He pushed the shirt off of Nathan's shoulders and ran his hands through the hair on his chest, trailing them down to his abdomen before curling his arms around his back to run his nails over the bare flesh. Eliot stood pulling Nathan with him and they made their way to the bedroom.

Eliot pushed Nate down on the bed and then pulled his own shirt over his head before crawling up between the other man's knees.

Nathan swallowed as he watched the other man kneel over him. His chest was bare of hair, smooth, peppered here and there by scars. The worst one ran along the side of his left rib, an inch wide band of scar tissue. He winced in sympathy. Whatever caused that must have been very painful.

Eliot attacked his mouth again before trailing down over his jaw and neck.

Nathan stared at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. He needed a moment to sort this out in his head. It was all happening so fast and he was confused. He put a hand against Eliot's chest. "I've never . . . I don't . . ."

Eliot stopped and looked down, licking his swollen lips. "Do you want me to stop?"

Nate shook his head and Eliot went back to kissing his way down Nathan's chest and stomach. Nathan lay there, heart thudding in his chest. He didn't want Eliot to stop, it felt amazing. It had been so long since he'd felt this close to someone. He didn't want to analyze what was happening but his mind was screaming at him that this was Eliot and he needed to think this through. Just then Eliot unzipped his pants and grabbed his already swollen cock and all thought flew out the window.

CONNOC

Nate lay in the bed; sheet pulled over his naked body, and stared at the shadows on the far wall. Behind him, Eliot lay curled against him, arm slung over him cradling him against his chest. He shifted his eyes to the clock on his bedside table. It was two a.m. but despite the late hour, the alcohol and physical exercise of earlier, he hadn't been able to sleep.

"Can't sleep?"

Nate jumped a little, not realizing the other man was awake. "I didn't mean to wake you." He could feel the other man shrug behind him.

"You didn't. I don't sleep much."

Nathan shifted a little bit and then tensed, wincing at the soreness in his body.

Eliot felt the other man tense up and pushed himself up so he could see the other man's face in the dim light from the windows. "Is the pain bad?"

Nathan shook his head and turned over so he was lying on his back. "No, it's ok."

Eliot dropped a kiss on Nathan's chest and then lay down, head on Nathan's shoulder, arm draped across his midsection. "It'll get better. The first time is always the hardest. Some men don't even reach orgasm their first time."

Nathan looked down to see a self-satisfied smile on Eliot's face. "I can tell you're very happy with yourself." The grin spread wider.

"Oh, yeah. I've never heard you sound like that. I am indeed very pleased with myself." Eliot looked up at Nathan, at the small smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes.

Nathan felt the anxiety curl into his chest, tightening around his heart. He pushed Eliot off him and got out of bed.

Eliot sat up and watched as Nathan walked out of the room. He felt his stomach drop somewhere in the vicinity of his toes. "Fuck." He started to get out of bed and pull on his pants when Nathan came back into the room bottle in his hand.

Eliot looked at the bottle with distaste but didn't say anything. Arguing with him wouldn't make things any better. He sat on the bed and watched as Nathan settled himself back against the headboard and took a shot straight from the bottle. "What's wrong, Nate?"

Nathan shook his head and took another gulp.

Eliot grabbed the bottle and forced him to lower it but didn't try to pry it from his hands. "Talk to me, Nathan. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Nathan stared down at the top of the bottle and Eliot's hand laid over his. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I'm not gay, Eliot."

Eliot blinked. "Okay. I didn't say you were."

Nathan shook his head. "I don't think this is a good idea. I can't. . . I can't do this."

At first all Eliot could feel was the panic that clutched his chest. Then he looked up and saw the tears welling up in the other man's eyes. "Hey! Hey, talk to me. Please, Nathan, don't shut me out right now. I need to know what you're thinking." He pulled the other man over until he had him cradled in his arms and could feel the warmth of his beating heart against the arm he had across his chest.

Nathan was gasping now, trying to keep the pain and panic from spilling out. "I don't know what you want from me. I can't do this." He took a shuddering breath and tried to bring the bottle to his lips but Eliot's arm was in the way and he gave up as another sob tore through his chest.

Eliot held onto him harder, rocking slightly, trying to offer some comfort. "God, Nate." This had been a big mistake. He'd thought that maybe a relationship between them would be a good, steadying, influence on Nathan. Instead it looked like he'd broken him. It was Nathan's next words that loosened something in his chest, that let him feel like he could breathe again.

"She doesn't understand. She keeps asking me to give her a reason, a reason to stay. Eliot, I can't give her a reason. I can't give myself a reason. She's asking me for something that I don't have. I don't have anything to give, Eliot." He turned and buried his head in Eliot's stomach.

Eliot rescued the bottle of bourbon from where it was in danger of turning over and spilling on the bed and set it on the bedside table. He wrapped his arms around Nathan and felt his own eyes prickle with unwanted warmth. This wasn't what he'd been expecting.

"I'm not asking for anything, Nate. I'm not asking you to do or be something you're not." He took a deep breath. "You have no idea how I fought against this because I knew that I couldn't change you. But you also can't change who you care about. So I'm not asking you for anything. I am offering you something though."

Nathan's sobs had quieted but he didn't move away from where he was cradled against Eliot's belly. Eliot rubbed a hand over the other man's back and continued. "We'll just take this as it comes and maybe we can help each other along the way."

Nathan sat up, face and eyes red but breathing returned to normal. They sat for a long time, Nathan staring off into space and Eliot watching as the second hand made its way around the clock. Finally, Nathan took a deep breath and turned to look at Eliot. "So, what is this between us? What are we?"

Eliot shrugged and studied the other man's face, once again noticing the tired sheen in his eyes. "Why do we have to label it? It is what it is." He paused for a moment. "It's just so far unnamed."

Nathan seemed to relax at that response. It was probably the only one that would put the other man at ease. Labels came with boundaries, with rules, and strings attached.

Nathan slid down into the bed on his side and Eliot pulled the sheet up before pressing himself into his back and cradling him against him, trying to lull him into sleep.

*The End*

Story Playlist:

Schizophrenia – Blue October

Happiness – Grant Lee Buffalo

New Year's Prayer – Jeff Buckley

Sing Along – The Blue Man Group ft. Dave Matthews

Elsewhere – Sarah McLachlan

Some Devil – Dave Matthews

Mad World – Gary Jules

Bother – Corey Taylor

Knocking on Heaven's Door – Antony & The Johnsons

Cumbersome – Seven Mary Three

Where Did You Sleep Last Night – Nirvana

Sleepwalk – Johnny and Santo

Lithium – Nirvana

The Answer – Blue October

Hope There's Someone – Antony & The Johnsons

Into Dust – Mazzy Star

People Are Strange – The Doors

Every Day Is Exactly the Same – Trent Reznor

Ugly Side – Blue October

Gravity – John Mayer

A Quiet Mind: Blue October

Grounds For Divorce: Elbow

Should Be Loved: Blue October

HRSA: Blue October

Broken: Seether ft. Amy Lee

Bach Cello Suite 1 in G: Yo-Yo Ma

Say It: Blue October

Walter Reed: Michael Penn


End file.
